


Send in your skeletons, sing as their bones go marching in… Again

by voices_in_my_head



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: coda to 2x01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 20:25:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14940794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voices_in_my_head/pseuds/voices_in_my_head
Summary: "He’d always been good at staying afloat no matter the situation, but he was starting to feel like he was drowning."





	Send in your skeletons, sing as their bones go marching in… Again

**Author's Note:**

> Paused during my binge watching to write this. Hope you like it and I still don't know all the backstory to FP and Jughead's lives so might have gotten some details wrong.

Jughead went to visit his father, but couldn’t force himself to say anything, so he just stood by the window, looking at him. FP just stared back, silently and patiently, and for all his bad characteristics – of which there was quite the list – he had always gotten Jughead in a way that his mom hadn’t.

His mom had always complained about how quiet he was, how he never opened up, how she didn’t know what was happening in his life, but not FP. FP waited him out, let him talk when he wanted and let him in peace when he didn’t.

Most people probably thought him a pretty bad parent for just letting Jughead waltz out of his life like that, when his mom left with Jellybean, and perhaps Jughead had been angry for a while, just waiting for him to finally care and come back for him, but FP always knew exactly when he needed some time for himself.

This time was not one of them, but Jughead just wasn’t sure where to even begin. He’d always been good at staying afloat no matter the situation, but he was starting to feel like he was drowning.

“When did you join the Serpents?” Jughead finally asked, and his voice sounded raw, like he hadn’t drunk in a while, which wasn’t exactly a lie. Jughead wasn’t very good with the small things like that.

FP raised both eyebrows, clearly surprised, but still answered. “Just after high school.”

Jughead answered him with silence, so FP shrugged and kept going, “I wasn’t going to college and I barely scrapped through those last exams so there was no way I was gonna get a good job. Being a Serpent gave me good money on the side.”

“Is that why you didn’t give their names? Because of the money?” Jughead asked, even though he knew the answer. Still, it would be good to hear it.

FP sent him a look like he knew he was fishing but once again, went along with it. “No. I joined for the money but I stayed for other reasons.”

He frowned and looked away, “your grandpa… he wasn’t a good man.”

Jughead straightened up from the window. FP didn’t often mention his old man and Jughead knew there were good reasons for that; he’d seen his scars on the rare times he’d seen his dad without a shirt.

FP still wasn’t looking at him. He drew a deep breath and passed a hand through his face. He looked tired, older than he actually was. It reminded Jughead of Mr. Andrews.

“The Serpents gave me a family. A good one. And I ain’t gonna shit on that,” FP finally said, looking at him and Jughead nodded, because he could understand that.

Yeah, it hurt that his father might spend the next decade in prison, possibly more, but he wouldn’t be who he was if he bought his freedom by betraying his people.

“You remember that day me, you, Mr. Andrews and Archie went out for dinner?” Jughead asked, walking towards the metal bars in a couple long steps. It wasn’t a very big room, after all.

FP didn’t even blink at the change in subject.

“Yeah, that was a good night,” FP smiled at Jughead, who couldn’t help but smile back.

It was short though, because then he frowned, unsure how to keep going.

“What, Jug?” FP asked, “you’ve never minded your words, no point in starting now.”

Jughead took a deep breath, wanting to look away, but knowing that he couldn’t. “Are you in love with Mr. Andrews? Because I saw the way you looked at him during dinner.”

FP moved his upper body back, like he’d been pushed and Jughead almost wished he hadn’t asked, but he’d be thinking about that for months and now… It just seemed like the right time.

“No,” FP answered and his dad had never been good at lying to him, so Jughead knew this for the truth.

“Have you ever been in love with him?” Jughead pushed, which he probably shouldn’t have but Mr. Andrews was laying on a hospital bed and his father still didn’t know and this was just… This was keeping the waves at bay, just for a little while.

This time, it took FP longer to answer. “Yes. In high school.”

“Was he in love with you?”

FP breathed out noisily, looking away to the window. Jughead took the time to study him. He looked nostalgic and Jughead wondered if maybe he had been lying when he said he wasn’t in love with Mr. Andrews. And if so, to whom exactly he was lying to.

FP looked back at Jughead and nodded. “Yeah. We were together in high school.”

Jughead raised both eyebrows, not being able to hide his surprise. FP chuckled at the response, though it didn’t sound particularly nice.

“Yeah, a surprise, eh.”

“It does put a new light on the fact that you called your van the Shaggin’ Wagon,” Jughead said and this time when FP threw his head back and laughed, it sounded genuine. Jughead smiled at the sound.

FP shook his head, still with the remains of laughing in the lines around his mouth, “yeah, I guess that was pretty obvious, uh.”

Jughead shrugged, still smiling. He opened his mouth but FP cut him off, guessing what he was going to ask.

“Why did we break up?” FP raised an eyebrow, “it was high school and yeah, we were in love, but… there were things we wanted and they just didn’t line up for the future and then there were other people… It was an amicable break-up.”

“It must have been, for you guys to go work together.”

FP shrugged and Jughead could see this line of conversation wouldn’t be entertained anymore. He wondered exactly how amicable a break-up could be between two people who were in love.

“He’s been shot,” Jughead finally put it out there.

“What?” FP asked, frowning.

“Mr. Andrews. He was shot at Pop’s.”

“And you just tell me this now?” FP asked, sounding distressed and even a bit angry and it wasn’t like Jughead could blame him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to… He’s woken up, he’s gonna be fine.”

FP released a tensed-up breath. “That’s good, that’s… Do they know who did it?”

And that was the question, wasn’t it? Jughead looked away, only hearing his dad’s concerned tone.

“Jughead?”

Jughead looked back at his dad.

“Dad, I… I think I messed up.”

FP studied him for some silent moments and it shouldn’t have felt peaceful, but not immediately being bombarded with questions felt good. It wasn’t because he didn’t care, it was because he knew Jughead so well.

Jughead pressed his knuckles against one eye, feeling himself tearing up.

“What happened?” FP asked, no judgment there and this was why Jughead came to him with his problems. No matter how bad, he was never judged.

“Two nights ago, the Serpents showed up at the trailer. They wanted me to know that they knew you hadn’t given up their names and that they’d stand by me.”

FP continued to look at him. Jughead passed a hand through his hair.

“And then they gave me a jacket.”

“And it fit you,” FP said, still in a bland tone, but this time Jughead could see the internal struggle, trying to come out, and Jughead so wanted to know what he was thinking: that he was making a mistake… or that it should have been him giving him the jacket?

But he doubted he’d get those answers; Jughead had gotten his silence from somewhere, after all.

“Like a glove,” Jughead said with a tilt to his mouth, remembering Betty’s words. He drew a deep breath, “anyway, we started thinking that maybe Mr. Andrews being shot hadn’t been just a robbery gone wrong and he let go of the Serpents, so maybe-“

“One of them decided to teach him a lesson?” FP asked, angry, but Jughead honestly couldn’t tell if it was at the idea itself or at the fact that someone had shot Mr. Andrews.

“I asked them to ask around, see if anyone knew anything.”

“And did they?” FP asked seriously, and once again Jughead wondered which reply he was hoping to hear.

Jughead opened his mouth but words didn’t come up right away. He went and sat against the bars. He heard his dad doing the same on the other side, felt his back touching his. He put his head in his hands.

“I think I’m in over my head,” Jughead started and then didn’t know how to continue, so he stopped.

“Jug.”

“I don’t want to be a Serpent.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You never had and you never will. Not on my watch.”

That felt good to hear but the fact was that his father was in prison. Not exactly fit to keep watch. Jughead let his head drop against the bars.

“Some guy was talking about how Mr. Andrews got what he deserved so they took him to find out if he was telling the truth or not,” he pauses, thinking back on finding a stranger tied to a chair because of him. He took a deep breath before letting it out slowly and continuing. “Dad, they tortured him.”

FP was silent for a couple beats. “Did he do it?”

Jughead breathed out deeply again, “would it make a difference?”

This time FP didn’t talk for a while. When he did, it was in an unwavering tone, one that broke no arguments, “yes, it would.”

Jughead let his head drop to his hands again. “They wanted you to know they had your back, even while you’re in prison.”

FP though that through. At least Jughead assumed he was doing that; but maybe that was just wistful wishing on his part. God, this was all so messed up.

“You said your book is about the real nature of Riverdale; whether it’s good or evil.”

“And you said most things were both,” Jughead remembered the conversation well, even if it had become bittersweet with everything that had come out about Jason.

“Living in the Southside, son, is going to teach you that more than anything.”

Jughead turned his head so that he could see FP, but he wasn’t looking at him. Instead he was just looking at the wall. This time he didn’t look tired, just lost in his thoughts.

FP had said that he had joined the Serpents for the money, but stayed for the family. Jughead wondered if he had had doubts in the beginning. Hell, even now.

He didn’t ask, though. That wasn’t something he needed the answer to right now.

 


End file.
